Nico moves to the back wall and leans against it, mirroring my position, and drops his head back. He rubs his temples again, tilting his head from side to side as if the muscles in his neck are stiff.
My spidey sense kicks in. I might be a pediatrician, but I know when someone’s in pain. Curious, I ask, “Are you okay?”
“Peachy,” he grunts sarcastically. His aura is giving off major “don’t talk to me” vibes, and I can’t help poking at him.
“A rotten peach,” I mumble, too low for him to hear again.
We both know he’s not fine, but if he doesn’t want to talk about what’s wrong, I’m good with that too. He is not my business, and I should not care about him.
At all. Period.
He turns to me, eyebrows furrowed. His demeanor is such a dichotomy from when I met him last. Gone is the suave and cocky man with a sinful smile. He’s been replaced with a dark, grumpy ass.
“If you have something to say, say it loud enough for me to hear?”
“Rude much?” I snap.
Nico glares at me like he’s thinking about punishing me, and somehow the angry look is even sexier than his cocky smirk.
Oh Goddess, what is wrong with me?
“Do not start with me right now. I am not in the mood,” he growls.
Oh hell, my core spasms at the sound, getting off on his rough and authoritative voice.Shut it down, Savannah.
When his eye twitches again, I push my attraction way down—like, to basement levels—and lock the doors with a chain.
“Is there something wrong with your eye?” I ask, concerned about him.
“No.” He exhales sharply.
I can tell something is wrong, but he’s being a stubborn ass. I’d put money on his not liking to ask for help.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, it’s just a tic when I get… Never mind.” He slams his mouth shut, making me more curious.
Putting aside my loyalty to Charlotte, and my disdain—albeit my slight attraction to him—I want to help him if I can. It’s the doctor in me. Helping people is my calling.
“A tic when you get what?” I press.
He shakes his head. “Leave it alone. It’s just a tic, and you don’t need to worry about it. I don’t need your help.”
“It’s just a tic,” I mock.
“Exactly, a tic.”
Wait?
“It’s just a tic,” I whisper. My thoughts bounce around like a pinball in my skull.
“That’s what I said. A tic,” he says again, and it’s as if the pinball in my brain hits the bonus at that moment. All the lights, bells and whistles go off simultaneously.
“Oh my goddess, that’s it.” A tick.
Adrenaline shoots through as the missing piece of the puzzle falls into place. Madison has to have a tick bite somewhere,and my guess is on her head. I can feel it in my bones; this is it. Early signs of Lyme disease.
“What’s it?” He looks confused and squeezes the bridge of his nose.
